Inplaceable scents
by TheHeroineIsMe
Summary: Collection of MikeNana (Mike x Nanaba) drabbles and one-shots. Their lengths don't warrant them their own stories. Sometimes NSFW. Different lengths, different verses, different maturity ratings. They aren't connected. New chapters are added as new drabbles are written. Sometimes angsty, sometimes fluffy, sometimes naughty, sometimes otherwise.
1. Chapter 1

There's a man, a tall one, fairly quiet, who comes there with frequency; well-trimmed facial hair above his upper lip and along his strong jaw line, his defined brow surrounded by sandy blonde bangs that flip out along his temples. An undercut. It's not hard to recognise him; he's easy to identify. He usually peruses the store a bit, walking about idly as he bundles over-sized sacks of dog food into his arms to lug to the front, always with one mutt, of a large breed, like himself, with him. The dog he brings varies by the day; always to have it groomed and she thinks that's the point where he's the most talkative he likely ever is. He'll sniff things before buying them, comment on the chemical scent of certain diets, how he wouldn't feed that to anyone. She finds his heightened affliction for his olfactory senses both weird and somewhat charming.

Today, he brings a Great Pyrenees, and she decides she'll finally raise the point to him.

"You know, Sir, you can bring all of your dogs in at once. You come here almost every day to get one of your dogs groomed, it would save you a lot of time. If you want, of course."

He looks down at her and for just a moment, she's certain she sees a glint of surprise cross his thin, cool grey gaze. He nods along, rubbing one pointer finger over the bridge of his large nose rather swiftly.

"Hn. Yeah. It's just nice to take them for individual walks sometimes."

"Oh." The petite blonde with the wavy undercut stares up at him with her muted blue orbs, considering his words, a light upturn to her thin brow. She doesn't believe him.

"I have 12 so... they can be a handful all at once."

He swipes a finger over the bridge of his nose anew whilst she considers his stature; there's no way this man nearly twice her size and with such well behaved dogs couldn't handle them. She finds his nose swipe a somewhat peculiar behaviour; just like his sense of smell; peculiar, interesting-just as he is.

"Oh." She states it flatly, a brief silence growing between them before she elects to break it.

"Well, I'm off Saturdays... But you already knew that, right?" She smiles softly whilst a he glances down to the canine companion to his side, a thin smirk crossing his well-defined contours.

"So... six? The park? I go running."

His smirk converts to a silent, genuine grin; he's read in her scent before how active she is, it's simply nice to hear it confirmed. "All right,—"

"Nanaba." She answers rather directly to which he nods.

"Mike."

"Yeah, I know. You come here all the time." Petite hands make quick work of the back of his receipt and he smirks as he reads what she's scribbled. Cute font. Nanaba. (01582) 227783. "Really though, now that you've got my number, Mike, you could always bring your dogs in all at once."

"I'll consider it." No he won't.


	2. Chapter 2

It's ten days in when he notices, long before she does; little changes in her normally so mute of behaviour, a light snappiness to her words to her comrades at inexplicable points, though more than anything, her _scent_; there's something heavy to it, less of a soft note, something brazen and warm. A month passes: she grows aloof and somewhat cold to him, dodging his thin, grey gaze and presence whenever possible, never outside of militant constraints. He elects to approach her... the scent's grown rather pungent. There's a soft sternness to his eyes as he pierces the mute blue gaze of his second in command, swiping an index finger over the bridge of his nose as he moves to speak.  
"Nanab-"  
"You know."  
He nods rather stiffly. "Yeah."  
He studies her a second; her soft, muted, rather androgynous features, the sternness to her pale blonde brow against him despite his superiority to her as her commanding officer.  
"Why didn't you tell me?"  
"You knew before I did, Sir."  
A downward curve paints the thin, well-trimmed hair of his upper lip. "Don't do that, Nanaba. I mean it. Why didn't you tell me?" He's grown rather restless.  
Her responses are flat and distant, piercing the man she's come to share such relations with. This was never part of the plan. "It doesn't concern you, Mike. It's my personal life."  
"I'm your personal life."  
"No, you're not."  
"Stop it, Nana-"  
"You can't command me on this, Sir. If you want to discharge me, then so be it. I don't intend to withdraw. Like you said, this isn't over until the last of Humanity ceases to fight."  
"Nanaba." A soft tone. He's aggravated, she can tell. Though he's never been one to really show it. The way he says her name, with the softening to a brow that is normally so strong and certain, causes her jaw to clench lightly, her pale blonde browline breaking ever so slightly over mute, ash blue eyes.  
"No, Mike." She won't have him getting involved in this. She doesn't intend to stop fighting until she's forced to and won't connect him to it at all costs; when it starts to show, if asked, she already intends to call it a civilian fling. She will not bring down Humanity's Second Strongest.

And she doesn't have to. Just weeks later, the titans accomplish so for her without her presence; without her knowledge... during the false breach of Wall Rose. It's not until her Squad returns- Gerger, Lynne, Henning bruised and battered, though alive, all of them- to be greeted by Commander Erwin -not Mike; not her lover and leader and comrade- with the sternest of gazes that she realises something's wrong.  
"Squad Leader Nanaba."  
Those words. _Oh_, those words. She joined the military with hopes to reach such a post one day; but she doesn't want this one and she certainly doesn't want it now. Her breath hitches in her throat, doing her all to hold back the tears that threaten her lower lids, an intense heat flooding her nose and brow as she returns his words swiftly with the most powerful of salutes; her fist over her heart as if she were swearing that precious organ to humanity. Though she isn't... and hasn't been for years. That heavy, pulsing sack that fills her blood with oxygen belongs to a man, the man that would have been the father to the child in her belly should he have returned and should she have allowed him to be involved. Though- minutes from now, in the infirmary, she'll come to know there was never a reason to push him away. She never would have had to bring down Humanity's Second Strongest.


End file.
